


Got Milk?

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-20
Updated: 2006-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron has taken the last glass of milk.Thanks to dream_wia_dream for the beta!





	Got Milk?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

“Hey, Ron?” Harry calls from the kitchen of the flat we’ve shared for the last three years.

“Yeah?”

“Is there any more milk?”

“Sorry mate, I just poured the last glass.”

Harry’s pouting face appears in the open door.

“Oh, right then…”

“What’s the matter?” I ask, looking up, seeing the disappointment on Harry’s face.

“Well, there’s one piece of your mum’s double fudge chocolate cake left…” he sighs dejectedly and doesn’t continue.

“Yeah. And?”

“Well, I can’t eat it without a big glass of milk to wash it down,” Harry mutters exasperatedly.

Sighing deeply, he throws himself on the sofa, opposite from where I am sprawled thumbing through Quidditch World Weekly.

“How about a cuppa?” I suggest.

“No,” Harry sulks, picking at the cushions, “it’s not the same.”

“Orange Juice?”

“Eww, no!” Harry exclaims his nose wrinkling in disgust, “not with chocolate cake.”

I sit for a moment gazing at his pouting face and his downcast eyes. _This could be fun._ I quietly cast a chilling charm on the glass of milk sitting on the side table to make it icy cold.

“Well, what’s it worth to you?” I inquire, quirking my eyebrow, giving him a pointed look.

I’m sure I’m wearing a devilish smirk to rival the twins’ at their most devious.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, seeming confused.

I sit up and shift closer, lightly running my fingers up Harry’s thigh. Staring into his sad, emerald eyes, I stop short of Harry’s crotch and give a firm squeeze.

“I mean, what would you be willing to do,” I motion with my head towards the icy cold glass of milk, which is now running with tiny beads of condensation, “for THAT glass of milk.”

“OH!” Harry responds. He shifts noticeably; I imagine trying to readjust himself in his jeans that have visibly become tighter.

I keep my hand on his upper thigh and begin to gently rub and squeeze his muscled flesh.

“Oh, um,” Harry stutters, his eyes brightening suddenly. “I’ll wash the dishes and clear out the rubbish bin,” he offers hopefully.

“It takes a little more than that to get me to give up food,” I tease.

“Um, I’ll do the washing and clean up the loo,” Harry counters. He knows I hate to do laundry and I never pick up after myself in the bath.

“Mmmm,” I taunt, pretending to mull the offer over, before firmly replying, “Nope, not good enough.”

I shift closer, so our legs are now touching, my hand still on his thigh.

“How about a back rub?” Harry offers.

He shudders involuntarily as I lean in, my warm breath tickling his cheek and reply, “Nope, but you’re getting warmer.”

Licking his lips, Harry looks up, our eyes meet and his are dancing now with a wicked glint. He clears his throat and offers, “I, um, I’ll polish your broomstick.”

I waggle my eyebrows, “Now we’re getting someplace.”  



End file.
